Casualty of war
by wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Peter got knocked down in Civil War, but when Tony went to check on the baby Avenger, he realized he was more badly hurt than first realized. There wasn't meant to be any casualties, but there always is in war.
1. Chapter 1

The fight was finally turning in their favour, as the giant guy began tumbling down; and Tony thought that maybe they would be able to catch Cap and his psychotic boyfriend in time to stop them leaving. Until Peters voice was cut off in the middle of his sentence.

"Yes! That was awesome! I-ugh!"

Tony heard the kid grunt as he was struck, and turned to see him fly across the sky; no longer swinging safely, but falling to the hard, unforgiving, concrete.

He crashed into a stack of crates first, obliterating them beneath him, before tumbling across the tarmac and landing curled on his side. His limbs were slightly askew, but he made no effort to get up or even move to a more comfortable position. He didn't move at all.

Tony's heart clenched painfully, as he held his breath, flying down to check on his newest recruit, while his mind screamed at him.

How could he be so stupid, as to bring a fourteen-year-old into a fight with the Avengers? Of course, the kid had caught a car without any problem, but this was a fight with other superheroes, ones that broke airplanes in half to hit people with. If he got hurt, it was on Tony, and he hadn't really thought about that possibility till now .

He approached the sprawled figure on the ground, praying that he was okay, and called out as he crouched beside him.

"Kid, you alright?"

Peter immediately rolled over, hands coming up to protect himself. Although he did a lousy job; his mask pulled half off, and little panicked noises falling from his mouth as he struggled.

"Get off me!"

Tony caught his wrists and pressed the flailing limbs to Peters chest. So, the baby Avenger wasn't dead, but he certainly wasn't all there right now. He was trying to pull his wrists from Tony's grasp, and although he was weaker than usual, he still had super strength, and Tony's Iron-Man suit provided the extra strength necessary to hold him still, as he tried to reassure him. "Same side. Hey, guess who? Hi."

Peters glassy eyes, found his, and the kid let out a relieved sigh, sinking to the ground. "Oh, hey man. That was scary." His voice was shaky, and he stopped fighting Tony's arms, exhausted.

Tony felt like sagging to the ground too, with how much relief was flooding through him. Peter was fine, a little banged up but nothing he couldn't handle and heal from within a day or two. He looked down at the kid, mask half off, and eyes not quite focussing, as he blinked them obnoxiously, obviously having trouble seeing.

Tony made a decision. "Yeah, you're done. Alright?"

Peters gaze flickered back to Tony and his hands came back up to try and grab onto the billionaire. "What?" He sounded so disappointed, and Tony knew that Peter would have gladly got back up to fight, had Tony asked him. But he couldn't risk the teenager getting hurt again, it was a bad idea to bring him in the first place.

"You did a good job."

Peter began squirming, trying to get his feet under him so that he could stand. "No, I'm good! I'm fine!"

Tony pushed the kid back down, trying to keep his voice level to hide how horrible he felt that the child in front of him, was so desperate to please him, while so obviously hurt.

"Stay down." He'd have Happy come pick him up or something, because as much as this was his fault, he still had to stop Cap.

"No, it's good, I gotta get him back!"

Tony's voice grew a notch harder, his concern showing through, because Peter couldn't even fight his hands off anymore.

"You're going home, or I'll call Aunt May! You're done."

He couldn't look at that disappointed, confused, face any longer; he didn't have time. Tony started walking away, as Peter continued to call out.

"Mr Stark, wait! I'm not done, I'm not…" Tony was about to fly off, after his idiot friends, when Peter let out a grunt of pain. Tony could hear the small thumps as Peter fell back to the ground after trying to get up, and he turned to watch him lay back down on the concrete.

The kid let out a tired breath, but Tony's own chest seemed frozen, because something was staining the tarmac.

It was seeping out from under Peter, slowly but surely, spreading out so that there was no questioning what it was. Blood; way too much of it.

Tony raced back over, pressing his hands to Peter's shoulders, to stop him moving, as he had Friday scan the kid for injuries. "Friday, give me a full report from the suit."

Peter looked confused, but Tony's voice was quick and hard. "Don't move."

The kid stilled, face screwing up into a wince, as Friday relayed her report. "I have detected a moderate concussion, three broken ribs, and a stab wound above his right hip. It is bleeding too fast, and needs to be treated immediately. Would you like me to send a med team?"

Tony could barely speak, at the sight of all that blood flowing from Peters side. It wasn't just a stab wound, the kid had been impaled, on a piece of metal that had likely come off the plane, when the Tiny/Giant guy had ripped the wing off. He felt sick.

He managed to reply, but his voice wasn't as stable as he would have liked. "Yes, and find Rhodey, tell him I need him here."

Rhodes had been in the military for long enough that he knew way too much about first aid in the field. He'd be able to help until the medics arrived.

Peter was looking up at Tony, confused. "Mr Stark, what's wrong? You should be fighting with the others."

Tony shook his head, hands letting go of Peter to hover over the metal sticking out from the kid's side, unsure of how to put pressure on it.

"That doesn't matter right now. I just need you to stay really still, okay? Don't move."

Peter looked like he was about to say something else, when the sound of thrusters interrupted, War Machine flying towards them, and landing on the concrete next to Tony.

The face plate lifted, and Rhodes looked a little sick. "Oh, shit Tony."

Peter looked between the two men, as Mr Stark seemed to get more panicked. "I know, just help him."

A bad feeling creeped into Peters stomach, and although his head was a little fuzzy, and thoughts came slower than they should, he knew something was wrong.

Rhodes stepped out of the War suit, and came to kneel beside Tony, hands hovering over Peters side. What were they staring at? Why did Mr Stark look so pale?

Peter lifted his head off the ground, ignoring the way it made everything seem to spin. Tony pressed against his shoulder again, trying to get him to lay back down.

"Don't look, kid!"

But it was too late, Peter saw it. It didn't make sense at first, his brain couldn't turn the colours and shapes into anything with meaning, because how could the glint of metal be coming from his side? Why was the ground red?

But it all seemed to crash together at once, and he carefully laid his head back down on the concrete, feeling dizzier and more out of it than he had before.

"Mr Stark?"

Tony's face was creased in concern as he looked at the teenager. "Yeah?"

Peters voice was small and thin, as he looked up at the blue sky swirling above him. "I think I'm done fighting, now."

Tony nodded, and sucked in a shaky breath. "You'll be okay, we'll fix this. I'll fix this."

Rhodes was still assessing Peters side, rolling up his sleeves and deciding on the best course of action. He spared a glance towards his friend. "You good? I need you to keep your cool here, Tony."

The mechanic nodded, hands still pressing against Peters shoulder and chest, in case he decided to move again.

Now that Peter knew there was metal sticking out from him, it started to hurt. Like, really hurt. He could feel the blood sliding down his side to his back, making the suit stick to his skin; the wrongness of his flesh and muscle being forced apart by the shrapnel. It ached, and burned and _hurt_. His breaths began coming in pants, and he couldn't stop the small whimpers that fell from his mouth, because he was scared.

Rhodey pulled his over-shirt off, balling it up and tearing strips from it, as more noise invaded Peters awareness.

"That's not like you, to just fly off in the middle of a fi- " His voice stopped abruptly, though Peter knew it to be the Falcons. And then he said what everyone else had. "Shit."

Rhodey looked up for only a second, but all the tension from the fight dissipated in an instant. "Steve said you were in the army. You remember your first aid training?"

Sam nodded and stripped off his wings as quick as he could, kneeling next to the other men on the ground. "Yeah, I remember. What have we got?"

Rhodes frowned down at Peters side. "Shrapnel; I need to stabilize it, and he fell a pretty good distance so-"

Sam rolled up his sleeves as he nodded, finishing his sentence. "I'll take care of everything else. Full assessment. There a med team coming?"

This time it was Tony that answered, voice thin. "Yeah, my own team. They shouldn't be long."

Sam took a place on the other side of Peter and looked down at him. "How you doing there, kid?"

Peter didn't know what else to say. "It hurts."

Sam nodded, and carefully slipped Peters mask off. "I know, just keep breathing nice and even. Everything's okay."

Peter tried to do as he was told, as more footsteps approached, and then a voice. "God, how old is he? Is that…is that metal coming out of him?"

Peter didn't know that voice, but Sam spoke as if he knew him. "Scott, we're trying to keep-" He paused, not knowing the teenagers name. Tony supplied it, and Sam kept going.

"Peter."

"Right. We're trying to keep Peter calm. Why don't you go get as many blankets as you can from the plane you ripped apart, and any first aid gear, you find. And hurry. Tony, I need you to come over here and hold Peters head steady."

Both men did as they were told, and Peter felt like maybe he might be okay, because they seemed to know what they were doing.

Tony stepped from the Iron-Man suit and carefully steadied Peters head so that it wouldn't move. Sam began talking as his hands moved over Peter, expertly checking everything over.

Friday had already given them a status report on Peters injuries, but Sam wanted to make sure, and carefully ran his hands across Peters head, neck, and chest, searching for any missed damage that could cause them trouble.

"Tell me if this hurts." He pressed and pulled at various parts of Peter, shoulders, ribs, legs, neck, stomach. He didn't find anything that Friday had already warned them about, but by the end of it, Sam was worried, because Peter was becoming less and less responsive.

"Peter? Buddy, I need you to answer me." Tony noticed the frown on Falcons face as the teenager tried to reply, but all they got was a groan.

"Hnnngg…" His eyes refused to focus, and they blinked so slowly, Tony questioned whether they would open again, every time they closed.

Scott had come back with the blankets and first aid kit fast, and Rhodes was stacking bandages and torn up bits of blanket around the piece of metal, trying to get the bleeding under control, but it just wouldn't stop.

"When's the med team coming? I can't get a handle on this, he's bleeding out too fast."

Sam placed two fingers at Peters wrist, frown deepening. "Heart rates low, and his breathings not looking good. He's going into shock. Scott hand me those blankets and lift his feet a little, but try not to jostle him too much."

Peter didn't seem to notice much now, reacting only with soft moans and whimpers when moved or pressed against too hard. Scott wrapped blankets around the kid, while Sam peered into Peters glassy eyes.

"I'm really not liking the look of this head injury. How many times was he hit?"

Tony didn't want to think about it, but knew it could be important. Scott answered, as he held Peters feet in his lap. "I saw Steve smack him into one of those plane walk-way thingies, and then he bounced off the concrete pretty hard, so I'd say a couple times just from that. Oh, Steve also hit him in the face with his shield, but he got up real fast afterwards."

Tony looked down at Peters pale face. "Then you knocked him into the ground."

Sam sighed. "I also had my drone throw him through a window."

Tony swallowed thickly. God, that was like four or five decent hits to the head, all in such a small amount of time, no wonder he was so out of it.

Everyone's attention was dragged away from Peters head, when Rhodes cursed under his breath, hands dripping blood and scrambling for another shred of blanket or jacket to tie the bandages to Peters side with.

"It just won't stop, why isn't it stopping?"

Sam looked at the mess of blood, words falling from his mouth without him seeming to realise he was saying anything at all. He'd seen too many friends bleed out in the dirt, but now it was a kid, too young and too innocent to deserve any of it.

"If he falls asleep, we'll lose him."

Tony didn't think he could take anymore statements like that, and he gently rubbed his thumbs across Peters temples, where his hands were still holding Peters head steady. "Hold on buddy, just keep looking at me. Peter? Focus, kid."

Those eyes were slow, but Peter dragged his blurry gaze to the face above him, but by the time he managed to find his mouth and make it move, the face was leaving; the warm hands on him, being replaced by something hard and restrictive.

There was a lot of noise, and more hands than there had been before. Bits of words leaked into Peters brain, but he couldn't decode the sounds into words or meaning.

"-C collar on him and lets- "

"-more bandages, this isn't holding."

"Blood pressures dropping, we need to get moving."

"-surgery now or we'll lose him."

He didn't know any of the voices, anymore, and the hands kept moving him around and sticking sharp things into his hands and arms. But he was too tired to move, even when he felt straps pull tight across his chest, holding him down to something hard.

The strange thing was, he didn't feel scared anymore, and the pain wasn't so bad. The noises grew louder, something whirring and pulsing, churning air and sound around him. He felt himself moving, and he knew that some part of his brain was telling him to stay awake, but he was too tired.

His eyes closed, and he felt as if his mind was swirling down a drain; disappearing into nothingness.

…

Tony rode in the helicopter with him as they transported Peter to the nearest medical facility available. It was a private military base, that was fully operational but quiet, and thankfully close enough that it was safe to transport Peter there.

But his condition only worsened on the trip over. The bleeding was out of control; with one of the medics shouting about blood vessels that must have been nicked, and if that wasn't enough, Peter was no longer waking up. He wasn't responding to pain, and his breathing had begun to slow so much he had an ambu bag over his nose and mouth, with one of the medics rhythmically squeezing it to pump air into his mouth.

The medics voices were muffled in the loud helicopter. "He's unresponsive and I've got decreased breath sounds on the right; lungs collapsing. I think the broken ribs have shifted and punctured it. Call ahead for immediate intubation on arrival."

He was slipping away, and there wasn't anything that Tony could do.

He followed closely behind the gurney that Peter was strapped to, as they wheeled it inside the base, but he couldn't follow them through the OR doors. He had to stand, shaking, in the hall praying that he hadn't just got a teenager killed.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony sat alone in the waiting room, till the others came. His head was in his hands, blood smeared over his shirt and across his cheek where he'd wiped away the tears that continued to fall.

Rhodes sighed as he approached, taking the chair beside his friend as the others followed behind looking sullen and worn out. He didn't even need to ask, Tony's voice rough as he answered the unspoken question hanging in the air.

"He's in surgery. It was…it was so bad. I can't believe I brought him into this." He let out a breath, and tried to reign in his emotions, speaking again before anyone could tell him the whole situation wasn't on him.

"Shouldn't you two be with Cap?"

Sam crossed his arms, as he shrugged. "He's a big boy, he's got it handled. Besides, Nat and Bucky are with him to handle that cat loving prince and the brainwasher. This fight was mostly between you and him anyway, no matter who else refused to sign those bullshit papers. Peters a kid, he shouldn't have gotten hurt. It changes things."

Tony nodded, voice small. "Thank you."

Sam and Scott nodded, taking seats next to the others as they waited.

It took several hours, enough time for Rhodes to force Tony to eat something, and for Sam to call Cap for an update, but all other thought evaporated as soon as the doctor that walked into the room.

He didn't look surprised to see them all there, but addressed mostly Tony when speaking, everyone quickly standing with eager expressions. He didn't bother introducing himself, since Tony had employed him, and he knew that their only thought at present was how their team mate was doing. He could deal with the formalities later.

"He's out of surgery; we were able to get the shrapnel out and stop the bleeding. Thankfully it didn't hit anything too vital, nothing we couldn't fix, but he lost a lot of blood. I'm talking almost half his blood volume here, it was touch and go for a while, but he is stable. Unfortunately, because the nature of Peters abilities is largely unknown, it's difficult to know what his limits are. Is he able to withstand a longer period of time without oxygen, without it resulting in brain damage, or does he have less time because he needs more oxygen for his enhanced strength? We just don't know that much about his abilities, so I need you to understand that while we are doing our best, we just don't know everything, and a lot of this is going to be guesswork."

Tony nodded, and tried to focus on the fact that Peter was alive. The doctor continued as the four men listened closely. "I've given Peter a transfusion of blood, to make up for what he's lost, but he's not breathing on his own just yet, so we've got him intubated until he's strong enough to do it on his own."

Tony fiddled with his fingers, nervously squeezing them, as he thought about the way Peter had looked in the helicopter. "They said he was unresponsive, is he…?"

The doctor sighed, gaze flicking down to the floor before coming back up to Starks eager, worried face. He stalled, trying to find some way to make the news easier.

"I'm told he received multiple considerable blows to the head, during the fight, and then with the hypovolemic shock, and him losing consciousness, and the amount of time he went without oxygen…he's slipped into a coma, Tony. I'm sorry."

Sam let out a curse under his breath, as Scott sighed, but Tony remained silent, closing his eyes as he tried not to vomit. Rhodes rubbed a hand over his friend's shoulder, as he spoke to the Doctor, tone hopeful but resigned.

"But he'll wake up, right?"

The Doctor paused again, looking like he didn't really want to answer that question. "…With how many blows to the head that he sustained, and the repetitive strain that it caused on the brain…I'd be surprised if there wasn't damage. So, he may wake up, but it most likely won't be for a while. I'm still waiting on the CT and MRI to come back; I'll know more then, but like I said, we don't know how something like this will be affected by his abilities."

Tony put a hand over his mouth, clenching his teeth to keep back the rising nausea. But the Doctor wasn't finished. His eyes were full of regret, and he squeezed at his hands, because he didn't want to say it, but he had to.

"Tony, theres something else you should know. But first, I need you to remember that Peter is alive, and I will do everything I can to keep him that way. Say it."

Tony nodded, confused. "He's alive, and hes going to stay that way."

The Doctor sighed, unable to look Tony in the eye as he spoke. "He was struck in the chest, what looked to be, multiple times, and he was going into hypovolemic shock; there just wasn't enough blood for his heart to pump...we lost him twice during surgery."

Tonys stomach had been in knots since he'd seen Peter knocked to the ground, but the knowledge that his actions had caused the teenager to die, at least for a moment, was too much. He let out a choked whine, almost a sob, before his stomach heaved.

The Doctor lunged for a nearby bin, thrusting it in front of Tony as he fell to his knees and expelled the little food he'd managed to eat. Rhodes knelt beside him, rubbing his back, and talking quietly to him as Tony tried to suck in a breath.

"He's okay, he's alive. We'll fix it, Tony, he'll be okay. Just breathe, man."

The Doctor pulled his regreatful gaze from Tony and spoke to Sam. "We're just settling Peter into a room, you can go see him but keep it to one or two people at a time. Talk to him, but keep it positive."

Sam shook the mans hand. "Thank you."

Scott watched Tony suck in shaky breaths on the ground, feeling terrible for the role he played in Peters injuries. "I'm so sorry. I didnt know how young he was, I didn't even mean to hit him, I was just going down, and one of my hands got him. It was an accident, I swear."

Sam took his shoulder. "It's not your fault. This whole thing got out of hand. There weren't supposed to be any casualties."

Scott knew that he wasn't the only one responsible, but he couldnt shake the guilt that flooded through him as he watched Tonys hands shake on the edge of the bin he was clutching so tightly.

"I have a kid, a daughter. I dont know what I'd do if anything happened to her. I'm sorry, Stark."

But that was the thing, Peter wasn't Tony's kid. He was someone elses, and Tony had taken him away from her, from May, who had already lost everyone else that she loved. Tony shook his head. "He's not even my kid. I just...recruited him, pulled him into my mess like it wouldn't get him dirty too. God, his Aunt just lost her husband, she can't take this, she can't lose Peter."

Rhodes shared a look with the other two, unable to contradict what Tony was saying, because it wasn't like what he was saying wasn't true. As much as he hated to admit it, Tony was responsible.

So, he ignored the previous statement and instead rubbed a hand over Tony's back. "Let's go see him. He shouldn't be alone."

Sam reiterated the Doctors orders to keep visitors to a minimum, so Tony went into the room alone, with Rhodes waiting at the door, should he need anything.

Had he not thrown up just before, he may have done it again, at the sight of Peter. He looked worse than he had on the tarmac, bruises left in stains over the kids pale face, one cheek bone slightly swollen. His eyes were closed, with a breathing tube in his mouth, arms laying limp on the blankets, with god knows how many wires and tubes trailing off the side of the bed. He looked so goddamn young.

Tony didn't move from the doorway, frozen, unable to move any closer. Machines beeped and whirred quietly, the only noise in the room, until Rhodes pushed Tony forward just a little. "Sit with him. Come on, Tony, the kid practically worships you, just let him know you're there."

Stark swallowed, mouth still tasting of acid, although he'd washed his mouth out since vomiting, and sat down in the chair beside the bed.

He sat in the quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say, but the words soon came tumbling out anyway.

"I fucked up. I shouldn't have dragged you here, made you fight against the goddamn Avengers. You did good kid, you did really good. And I'm just...I'm sorry."

He wasn't expecting a response, but it still made his stomach knot itself further, when he got none. Peter didnt move, save for the mechanical rise and fall of his chest, and no matter what he said to Peter, there would be no change in the days after either.

...

Peter wasn't sure when he started to become aware of what was around him, but it seemed to dawn on him that he could actually hear things, and that maybe he should try and concentrate to figure out what they were.

"-ack home soon. If you could just open your eyes for more than two seconds at a time, I'd really appreciate it. Come on, Peter, it's been three days already. Just let me know you're there."

Peter recognised the voice, but couldn't find the name in his muddied thoughts. It was hard to hold onto any thoughts at all; they seemed like smoke, intangible and likely to dissipate between your fingers at the attempt to grasp them.

The voice paused but came back after a noise like a door opening. "Hey, Doc."

Another voice this time, one that Peter was sure he didn't know. "Tony. He respond to anything yet?"

Tony. Was that the name of the voice? "No. He still opens his eyes occasionally, but he just stares at nothing and closes them again. Sometimes he pulls his hand away when someone touches it, or flinches when someone makes a noise but- "

The other voice didn't sound as sad as the first one, and it sounded closer, like it was right above him. "That's all very typical for someone in a vegetative state. And I know that phrase is usually said in a bad context, but it's a step up from coma, and hopefully the next step is a minimal conscious state, where he'll start responding and seem okay for short periods of time. I really do believe he'll recover Tony, he's young and healthy, and he's progressing at a much faster rate than anyone typically would. But the recovery of the brain is a gradual process, and he needs time to heal."

Peter was suddenly aware that he had eyelids, when one was gently pulled open. Funny how he'd forgotten about having those.

Light was suddenly a part of his universe too, because it blinded him momentarily before sweeping away, revealing a blurry, human shaped, blob hovering above him. Then his eyelid was dropped closed and the whole process was repeated with the other eye. Oh right, he had two of those.

The voice was back, the one above him, and Peter felt his thoughts becoming more solid things, that he could grab onto and understand. He had a body, and although it felt strange, he thought he may be able to move it if he really tried.

"Well, his CT came back clean, and his vitals are looking really, really good. His blood pressures back up and he's starting to breathe on his own; not enough to take the tube out, but he's improving. Which is why I'd like to put some soft restraints on, in case he wakes up enough to try and pull anything out. Patients coming out of comas, can often be agitated and confused, and if he pulls at his breathing tube, he could cause some serious damage. I know it can be hard to see, but I do think it's necessary."

"…Whatever you think is best, Doc." He didn't sound happy and Peter distantly realised he didn't like that. Tony wasn't supposed to sound sad. The door opened and closed again, and Tony's voice came once more.

"I'm still waiting for you to wake up. The others are here too, and they're worried about you, kid. Don't keep us waiting too long, okay?"

Peter wanted to answer, he wanted to say that he was there, or move or do something, but his mind was turning to sludge again, and his thoughts slipped away.

…

Tony rubbed a hand over his forehead as he stood in the hallway, waiting outside the teenager's hospital room while Sam talked to him. He could hear his voice through the door, soft and falsely happy.

"When you're feeling a little better, we could start up some training sessions. Cause that suit of yours is amazing, even though the webs creep me out. You're gonna be a really cool dude someday, and we could always use another Avenger on our side. But you've gotta wake up first, buddy."

It was hard to be in the room, with the hissing machines, and the sight of Peter in that bed. There had been an improvement in his vitals, and he was pushing back against the ventilator, trying to breathe on his own, but now there were padded restraints, tying his limp wrists to the bed. It seemed like every step forward was so small it hardly mattered.

Sam had updated him about Cap and Bucky, not willing to reveal where they were, but admitting that they had finished their mission, and were looking to come home. They'd likely be arrested if they did, or they would have, if Tony hadn't spent four hours on the phone to the higher ups of the government, and convinced them that the world needed their help more than they needed them locked away.

The whole fight seemed so ridiculous now that it was over. They were all adults, why hadn't they just sat down and talked about it? Why hadn't they been treating Sargent Barnes like the victim he was rather than a willing participant of the experiments he'd been subjected to? It was all such a big mess, and he didn't know if he could fix it all.

…..

Peter's thoughts came dripping back into his brain, and he was pretty sure he'd been asleep until something woke him. His eyes opened to a white ceiling, as his hearing attempted to focus on what had disrupted his sleep.

It was that voice again, Tony's, but there was another too. It was loud, and angry, and Peter weakly pulled at the soft cuffs around his wrists, the booming voice hurting his head.

"HOW COULD YOU BRING IN A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD, TONY?! Do you have any idea how hard I hit him?"

"You pulled your punches- "

"I did! But I shouldn't have been punching at all! Look at him, Tony! He's got a traumatic brain injury; do you know what that means? It means that this could be it for him! This, just lying there, blinking at the ceiling, for the rest of his life. I hit him so goddamn hard and I know he could get better, but there's also the possibility that he might never progress to anything more than this, and you can't ignore that. Doesn't he deserve better?"

Peter was sure he knew that voice. He'd heard it before. Tony spoke again, gravelly voice quiet.

"I know I screwed up. But I didn't know what else to do, you were throwing so much away. I couldn't let you take Barnes' side again, Steve. You're totally blinded by him, every time."

"Don't turn this into some noble gesture, Stark. You dragged a child into a war, and now he might never get to go home. But you didn't just get Peter hurt, because this is on everyone that fought him, and we have to carry that guilt that we didn't ask for. I'm never going to be able to forgive myself, for hurting him, if he doesn't get better. Hell, even if he does. And you know that everyone else feels the same. I just…I can't believe you'd do something like that."

Peter didn't like listening to Steve sound so upset, it made his stomach knot, like it did when he got in trouble, like he felt guilty. His thoughts were clearer than they had been, and he thought that he may be able to actually move.

"Believe it or not, he wanted to go."

"I don't care. He should be at home, with his Aunt. Safe." Steve sighed, and Peter listened to him as he pulled his fingers towards his palm, curling them weakly in the blankets.

"You have to fix this, Tony. You have to do everything you can to be there for this kid, because he's your responsibility now. And no matter how much it costs, or how hard it is, you're going to get him better, and get him home."

It was hard to move when so weak, but Peter curled and uncurled his fingers in his blankets, and tried to pull at the restraints, not really interested in breaking free, but more testing out his new ability to move. He could look around now too, gaze sweeping over the room to the window on the door, that Tony and Captain America were standing behind.

Tony looked tired, as he looked through the glass to watch Peter.

"I know, I- " He stopped talking abruptly, pushing the door open and walking towards Peters bed. Peter watched him, still curling his fingers and pulling at his wrists.

"What's wrong?" Steve came in behind him, and Peter shifted his gaze between the two.

"He's looking at us." His voice was tinged with awe, hope filling every syllable, but Steve was less impressed.

"So? He opens his eyes sometimes, Stark. That doesn't mean he sees us."

But Tony was insistent, watching those bright eyes follow him around the bed, and they weren't blank like they had been. They had an intelligence to them.

"No, no, look. He's there, he's really there."

Peter blinked at him, as Tony picked up his fingers, and gently squeezed them in his grip.

"Hey kid, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand, come on. Prove this ancient windbag wrong." He gestured to an irritated Steve, and Peter watched them both as he weakly squeezed Tony's hand back.

"He's back! Pete's back!" Of course, he knew that it wasn't over yet, Peter wasn't fully out of it. But a minimally conscious state, where he could respond and seem aware for short periods of time was far better than the vegetative state he'd been in and above all, it meant he was healing. He was going to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony paced excitedly at the end of Peters bed, as the doctor came in, face lit with a smile. "Well, it's certainly good to see you awake, and wow look at you go with that tracking!" Peters ability to follow people with his eyes, when they moved, was something that brought him up a category, from vegetative state, to minimally conscious state, and eased everyone's mind, when he could finally react to things going on around him.

Peter blinked at the doctor in front of him, as he spoke, trying to concentrate on what was being said, which was a little difficult since his head was still muddled.

"I'm Doctor Adams, Tony has hired me to take care of you. You were in an accident, but you're okay, and you are receiving the absolute best care in a private medical facility in Germany. I'm going to ask you some questions now, but I don't want you to try and speak, just squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no. Do you remember what happened?" Dr Adams didn't mention the fact that Peter still had a breathing tube in, because it would likely only upset him.

The doctors hand was big in Peters, and he gently curled his fingers around the man's palm, twice.

"No. Okay, that's all right. You went on a mission with the Avengers, and you did really well, but you got a bit banged up, so you're taking time off to rest."

He pointed to Tony next. "Do you know who that is?" Peters eyes blinked as he took in Starks appearance, ruffled and worn after almost a week staying with the teenager.

Squeeze. The doctor tilted his head slightly. "Have you met him before now?" Because most people knew who Tony Stark was, that didn't mean that Peter remembered being recruited by him. The billionaire looked a tad nervous, but Peters eyes held a spark of intelligence and recognition.

Squeeze. Dr Adams smiled, and Tony sighed quietly behind him. "Good, that's really good, Peter. I'm going to check you over, and I want you to just relax and answer questions the same way we just did, okay? One squeeze for yes, two for no. Tony can you take his hand please? I need both of mine."

Tony quickly moved to the bed, watching Peters calm face, as he took his hand. The kid already looked so tired, but kept his eyes on Dr Adams as he moved around.

"Are you in any pain?"

Squeeze. Squeeze. "No."

Tony watched the kid nervously, soft cuffs still around his wrists, and breathing tube trailing from his mouth, with the blue bite block strapped across his face. It was strange to see them on him, while he was awake; it seemed as though he should be able to breathe on his own if he was able to respond to commands, but Dr Adams had said his lungs were still healing and needed time to get stronger.

Next, the man took his penlight and swept the beam across Peter's eyes, making him flinch a little, and pull at the restraints. The Doctor took the light away and apologized, with a sympathetic wince. "Sorry, I know you're more sensitive to light than others, but they are looking good. I'm just going to check a few more things, and you squeeze Tony's hand if any of it hurts, okay?"

His gentle hands pressed across Peter's chest, and ribs, watching Peters face carefully for any reaction. When he got none, he nodded and moved to the end of the bed, flipping up the blanket and taking one of Peters feet in his hold.

"Can you press down on my hand?" It was slow, and Peters brow furrowed with the effort, but he did it. "Good, and up?" He could do that too. Tony couldn't help but smile as he watched the process repeat on the other foot.

"That's great, Peter, you're doing really well. I just have to check one last thing and then you're all good to sleep again."

He peered at the respirators monitor and readings, as he carefully lowered Peter's blankets to his waist, and his hospital gown as well, to expose his, now bruise free, chest. He took a quick look at the dressings on Peters side, noting how well the wound was healing, before covering it again and instead, pulling his stethoscope from his neck.

Peter shivered a little as the head of the stethoscope was placed against his chest, and Dr Adams smiled kindly, patting Peters side in comfort. "Sorry buddy, should have warned you."

Tony watched the other man closely, trying to determine whether his frown was because of what he was hearing, or just the doctor's way of concentrating.

Thankfully, once he was finished, he smiled and looped his stethoscope back around his neck, tucking Peters gown and blanket back in place, before tapping a few monitors beside the bed.

"Well, everything's looking really great! You are progressing beautifully, Peter. You just keep taking those nice big breaths, and we'll have you tube free in just a few days. We're all done, so you can sleep now if you like, I'll have a little chat to Tony, but he'll be right back."

Peter didn't really understand most of what the man had said, but he was nice, and seemed to be friends with Tony, so he figured he didn't really have to worry. Tony squeezed Peters hand once more before leaving, the two of them walking just outside the door to talk.

Although Peter hadn't done much, he was absolutely exhausted, and fell asleep as soon as his eyes slipped closed.

…..

Tony followed the Doctor out, looking back at Peter through the window in the door, as the teenager's eyes fell shut. "So, he's okay? He'll be fine?"

The man nodded but it was reserved, and he took Tony's shoulder. "He is doing very well, and I'm confident he'll make a full recovery, but there very well may be certain things that take a little more time."

Tony's smile faded. "What do you mean? Like, damage?"

The Doctor looked hesitant, but it needed to be said. "He's responding, and he seems aware, which are good signs, but he may seem a little different. Recovery takes time, and coma patients especially, need patience. He may ask the same questions over and over, forget where he is, or what day it is, and lose his temper over little things. I expect confusion and agitation to escalate slightly as he comes fully out of the coma."

Tony frowned, looking as if all his excitement had been sapped out and replaced with the same guilt and worry that had been holding him down since Peter had gotten hurt. Dr Adams placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not saying it will be permanent; we won't know much until he comes out of it completely, and we get the breathing tube out, but we need to be realistic about what's going to happen, moving forward. Peter will likely need physical therapy, and outpatient care once he's officially discharged. Because of his enhanced healing, I don't think it will take very long, but it is a possibility. He's not going to wake up and be completely fine, and I just want you to understand that."

Tony looked through the window to Peter, watching that poor kid, asleep in the bed. "I understand."

…..

Peter woke up for little bits at a time, seeing pieces of what was going on around him, unable to interact with much. But he liked what he saw, and he was never alone.

"-eally, we need to do this more often with him, because of his strength. The goal is to stretch out his muscles gently, so that they don't stiffen or atrophy. I would do it, but because he's responding more, he's started pushing back, which is good! But I can hardly handle that sort of strength and we don't really want any mishaps." That voice was nice, female, but Peter didn't recognise it, like he did the other voice.

"I don't mind helping, I'm at least partially responsible for his condition anyway. So, if there's some way I can help him, then I'll do it.""

The other voice was soft. "You're a good man Steve, I never believed those things about you in the news."

Steve chuckled lightly. "Thanks, April. So, how do I do this?"

Peter felt large hands gently take his limbs as the other voice instructed, easing them towards him and then out again. The voices drifted over him, and he managed to open his eyes, to see Captain America, and a kind looking nurse standing over him.

Steve smiled at him. "Hey, Peter good to see you, buddy. I bet it feels good to be moving again, huh?"

The Captain was holding Peters hand and arm, gently stretching them out as Peter blinked at him. He was right, it did feel good; and Peters muscles seemed to think all on their own, pushing back against Caps hold, fingers curling tight in his effort.

Steve held his arm, as Peter pushed against it, stretching it out, and smiled. "There you go! Damn even like this, you've got strength."

Peter wanted to keep moving, and he kicked his legs a little restlessly in the bed, head rolling across his pillow towards Steve. The nurse laughed, brushing her hand through Peters hair. "Someone's getting excited, save your strength, sweetie. You'll have plenty of time to move around once we get you home."

Peter wanted to keep moving, his muscles wanted to move, but the nurse was right, and he was already getting tired. His arm flopped in Caps hold, and his eyes sagged, as he fell asleep again.

Peter didn't always remember waking up, sometimes it was just small moments, little flashes of recognition, and it wasn't just Cap that visited him. Sam was there too, Scott a few times, with Rhodey coming to sit with him, and read aloud. Tony was there the most, talking or just sitting quietly. It was nice to know, that he wasn't alone, that they would always be there when he opened his eyes.

Black Widow was there once too, reading a book out loud, but it wasn't anything that Peter could understand, Russian probably. She didn't look up when Peter opened his eyes, too focused on the book as her tongue spilled beautiful sounding Russian words to the air.

Peter watched her, never seeing her as anything but threatening before, and he nudged his hand across his blanket, fingers stretching towards her.

Her eyes flickered up from the book, widening slightly when she saw Peter awake, before moving to his fingers crawling across the blanket. Her eyes moved back down to her book, as she continued reading, but her hand stretched out, picking up Peters hand and gently holding it as he listened to her read.

Peter thought he may have been awake when Dr Adams and the nurse, pulled something from his mouth, but he didn't remember much of it. Only that something had held his arms down, and the whole process had been uncomfortable.

But Tony looked so happy, the next time Peter opened his eyes, and that sort of made it all worth it. He smiled and pulled Peters blankets up higher on his chest, tucking them around his sides.

"You're getting better, kid, you're doing so great. We'll get you home soon, I'll have the transfer sorted out by tomorrow. Now that the governments calmed down a bit, they should leave us and everyone else alone. That's good news, right?"

Peter blinked at him, tired, and with good reason to be apparently, as there was no light coming from the windows. Tony's voice was quiet, so it must have been night, which meant Tony didn't leave Peter even to sleep. That somehow made him feel better.

The billionaire continued to talk, sighing as he sat down beside the bed. "I'm sorry for everything that's happened, Peter. I really am, but I'm going to make it right, starting with getting you better. I promise."

Tony looked down at that trusting face, slow blinking eyes. He looked so much better since they took the tube and restraints off, and he finally felt as if everything might be alright. If only Peter would speak.

The teenager opened his mouth, as if having heard Tony's thoughts, and it looked as if he would try to say something, but he only sighed and turned his head towards him, so that he could see him even when Tony was sitting down. The billionaire sighed too, unable to help himself from brushing Peters hair back, as the kid watched him.

And then he saw something he hadn't seen in far too long, Peters mouth turned upwards in a lazy, tired smile. Tony's heart felt lighter, at the sight, and he stayed there, brushing Peters hair back, until the kid fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Warm water swept across Peters face, brushing his hair back, and traveling over his cheeks, and down to his neck.

Someone was humming quietly, interrupted only by soft words, and Peter turned his head towards the sound, as his arm was lifted by a gentle hand.

"This will make you feel better. Nice and clean, all ready for the trip back home, that's exciting huh?"

It was a woman's voice, one that he'd heard before, and when his eyes opened, he recognised her as the nurse that taught Cap about his physical therapy. He couldn't remember her name, though she seemed nice. She smiled when she saw his eyes open, and dragged the warm wash cloth down the length of Peters arms, ending at his hand to massage his fingers with the damp fabric.

"There are those baby browns. Hey, Peter, it's nice to see you awake again. That extubation took a lot out of you."

Peter didn't understand all that she was saying, but she had a nice smile, and it felt good, the way she rubbed the cloth into his skin. So, he silently watched her, as she placed his arm down and squeezed the cloth out in a bowl beside the bed, before running it over his bare chest. He shivered slightly, and made a noise in the back of his throat, frowning when he realized he could.

He hadn't been able to talk for…however long he'd been in the hospital for, and he concentrated as he tried again.

"…hmmmm…I…" It came out as a garbled mumble, although he'd been trying to ask where May was, or Mr Stark. The nurse smiled and nodded patiently.

"It's okay, take your time." She moved the cloth over his chest, as he concentrated on how to formulate the words he wanted. His eyebrows furrowed, and he tried his best, but what came out of his mouth wasn't a question at all.

"Hmmm…I'm…done…fi…ghting now." The nurse looked up, hands still moving as she did her work.

"Wow, how about that for your first words. That's pretty good little man. I'm almost finished here, and then we'll get you ready for the big transfer. You're going back home to a medical facility at Stark tower. I'll be coming too, and Dr Adams, so you don't have to worry about a thing. We'll be taking care of you till you're back on your feet. I think everyone's excited to be going home, and Mr Stark will be pleased to hear you talking. He's been waiting a while."

Peter watched her work, the cloth continuing to slide over his skin, making him feel fresher and more human than he had been previously, but he frowned because that wasn't what he had meant to say.

She didn't seem to notice his frustration, and simply kept chatting away until she'd finished, and placed his gown and blankets back in place. She excused herself to fetch Dr Adams and Tony, who would be, according to her, simply ecstatic that he was speaking.

Peter didn't see how it was that great; he was used to talking a mile a minute, and now it took significant effort to get a few words out, and they hadn't even been the right ones!

But, it seemed she was right; Tony had a big smile on when he entered, and Dr Adams was looking excitedly at Peters alerts eyes.

"Hey, Peter! Finally awake for good now? April, told me you were talking, do you want to try it again?" April, that was the lady's name.

Peters gaze flickered to Tony, who was trying to stay quiet in the back, while Dr Adams took the lead.

The teenager took a deep breath, because talking took concentration, and he wanted to be sure he said the right thing this time. He furrowed his brow, and huffed in irritation as he tried to get the words out.

"Hmm…I'm do-done fight…ing now." That wasn't what he meant.

Dr Adams nodded sadly. "That's right. You're all done for now."

Tony, however, looked pale, because he recognised the words. Peter met his eyes, and he knew they were the same ones that the teenager had uttered to him on the tarmac, when he'd first seen how bad his injuries had been.

Peter could see how hurt Tony looked, but that hadn't been what Peter meant, and he grunted as he kicked the end of his bed in annoyance at his own clumsy tongue.

Tony leant towards the doctor, whispering to him, as if he'd forgotten that Peter had super hearing. "Didn't he just say that same thing to April? Why can't he say anything else?"

Dr Adams placed a comforting hand on Tony's arm, shushing the man before he could leap to any conclusions.

"He might just be a little stuck, give him a moment." He turned back to Peter, with an easy smile.

"Can you tell me your name?"

Yes. Maybe? Peter knew what it was, but he wasn't sure if it would be what came out of his mouth when he spoke. His gaze bounced between Tony's worried eyes, and the doctors relaxed ones.

It all felt ridiculous, like he was a child, being asked to say his own name like it was a hurdle he just needed to overcome. It shouldn't be hard to say your own name, but that's where he was.

Peter sighed, and tried to relax and just let the word fall from his mouth, like it had a million times. But the word didn't feel easy, it didn't feel like just two syllables; it felt like peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth that your tongue just can't quite get to.

"Hmmm…" He hummed a little to get his mouth moving, and then pushed the word from his thoughts to his tongue and out between his teeth.

"Pe…ter." A smile broke free, and the two men beside him smiled, as Dr Adams patted his shoulder encouragingly.

"There we go! Who's this?" He pointed to Stark, who no longer shared the same complexion of Peters sheets, and Peter found it easier to loose the name from his lips.

"Tony."

The billionaire came over to the bed and dropped a hand on his head, brushing Peters hair back as he visibly relaxed. "I am so glad to hear you talking again. I never thought I'd miss a child's incessant rambling but…here we are."

Of course, he wasn't all the way there yet, it was still hard to find the words he wanted, but it got better and better the more he tried. Now that he was back to, almost, normal, and the government was settled down, it was time to head home.

Tony felt as if a band had finally been untied from around his chest; he could finally take in a full breath, and stop worrying, because Peter was okay. He was still weak, and needed a little help to get his coordination back, but he was present, he was talking, and it felt like they really had him back, for the first time.

He'd waited so long, it was practically agony to sit beside the kid's bed and watch him open his eyes but see nothing, and then wake up but not be there, that he felt as if he were walking on air. Peter was really okay. Which meant Tony could fix everything.

Firstly, it was bringing them all home, to Stark Tower. He'd already sorted out the whole thing, organising his staff to deck out the whole place with everything the team might need. They each had their own rooms, and the medical wing was fully stocked, and Peter had a space set up right next to his room, to do his physical therapy in. It was all going to be perfect.

Happy met them all at the jet, as they wheeled Peters bed onboard and set everything up for the trip, but the teenager wasn't so happy about it. Tony was doing up his belts for him, pulling straps across his legs, hips, and chest, to make sure he didn't move around too much during the flight, but Peter didn't like the feeling of being held down.

Tony took the spot next to him, as everyone got settled in their seats, but Peter was letting out small grunts as he pulled at the straps and tried to curl onto his side in the bed.

"Hey, its okay. Settle down, Pete." The billionaire put a hand on the kids arm, only to feel Peter start to shake as soon as the plane started. He let out a small whimper, at the engines rumble, and kicked restlessly when the plane started to move. Tony frowned, concerned. He had no idea why Peter would be scared.

Happy came over with a blank face, trying to act as if he didn't care, even as he took a seat next to the kid's bed, and put a hand on his chest to get his attention. "Hey, you're fine, kid. It's just like the ride over here, remember?"

Peter seemed to latch on to him, gaze locking on to his, as he nodded. "Take a deep breath."

The teenager followed his lead, noisy gasps falling from his mouth as he squirmed. He was gearing towards panic, and the other occupants of the plane noticed.

Tony looked at Happy, silently asking for an explanation. Happy obliged, voice low. "He got nervous about the turbulence on the trip over. He'd never been on a plane before and he didn't handle it so well."

But the plane was already moving, and the engines were so loud that Peter was having trouble blocking it out. He could feel the rumble of the entire plane, shaking into his bones and mixing up his insides. It felt awful. It was harder to focus his senses and not to feel overwhelmed by everything, since the whole brain injury thing.

He moaned in discomfort, catching the attention of the other occupants of the plane, one of whom being Sam, who came over with his iPod in hand.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Happy and Tony looked to him as he walked over, while Peters hands clawed their way to Tony's arm, fingers burying themselves in his jacket. "Too loud. I don't…I don't like it."

Sam frowned, glancing down at the iPod in his hands, before closing the distance between them and offering the headphones to the teenager.

"It's probably not your style, but it might help."

Peter didn't want to let go of Tony, but nodded gratefully as Sam carefully put the headphones in place, turning the volume up, until Pete's shoulders came down from their hunch.

He was still shaking, and flinched every time the plane jolted even a little bit, but the music helped, and Sam stayed to keep his hand resting on the kid's leg. The Avengers hadn't known Peter long, they had probably only interacted with him for about five minutes each, during that disastrous airport fight, but they couldn't help but feel protective over the kid.

Tony had told them all about him, while he'd been in the coma, and they knew he was a nerd, very talkative, and just a genuinely good kid. So, when Peter let out a terrified cry at a sudden bounce of turbulence, Cap couldn't stay in his seat. Peter may have stolen his shield, but Steve couldn't ignore him when he was so scared.

He came over to the slowly growing group of people surrounding the teenager, and took a seat close beside Sam. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so as not to embarrass Peter, as he leant over a little, to place a hand on the kid's ankle.

Peters eyes were squeezed shut against the vibrations of the plane, but they fluttered open at Steve's touch, and he found the first avengers unwavering gaze. Peter smiled just a little, relaxing minutely at the sight of four adults, three of whom were Avengers, sitting beside him to make him feel better.

It was a long flight back to New York, and the other heroes slowly gravitated towards Peters bed. Cap and Sam were at the end, quietly talking, Happy was asleep at Peters side, and Tony was trying to pretend he wasn't holding Peters hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it every time Peter squeezed it when the plane shook.

Natasha, and Clint subtly switched seats to the ones closer to the growing group, and began playing cards with Bucky and Scott. Vision and Wanda watched and refereed while Rhodey sat near Tony and read a paper silently.

Amongst the quiet talking, laughter, and the music coming through Sam's borrowed headphones, Peter could barely hear the plane engine anymore. He looked around the luxurious space, amazed that he got to be in the same plane as the Avengers, let alone be taken care of by them.

He wished he had his phone, so that he could video it all, but he settled for savouring the moment.

About halfway through the flight, Peter was looking out through the window, blinking tiredly at the passing clouds, when almost silent feet, padded across the cabin towards him. He turned, not expecting to see black widow approaching with a blanket.

She gestured towards Tony, where he'd fallen asleep still holding Peters hand, as she draped the blanket over a dozing Sam. She shared a look with Cap, who nodded and stood, taking her previous seat next to Bucky, so that she could sit at Peters feet.

Her voice was quiet. "You're new to the team, but it is a team. Don't think that just because we're going home, that we won't help you."

He didn't know how she knew, but he had worried about that. The avengers barely knew him, why would they keep helping him? He thought that Tony may just drop him off home and be done with him, but Natasha was soothing all those worries in one sentence. Peter didn't know what to say, but he tried anyway. "Thanks."

She nodded, looking down at Sam as he fell against her shoulder in his sleep. She looked bored, which Peter was learning was just her usual expression, as she put her feet up on the end of Peters bed, shifting them enough that they pressed Peters. He smiled knowing it was her way of comforting him, when there was less noise to distract him from the engine rumble.

"You should try to sleep, there's still a few hours till we touch down."

He did as he was told, feeling safe with all of his heroes surrounding him.


	5. Chapter 5

"I think Buck's just glad he doesn't have to run anymore. And I'm not going to sign those ridiculous papers, but Tony said he'd help with all the brainwashing stuff, so I don't really have any choice but to forgive him."

Sam nodded as he and Cap walked through the halls of Stark tower. They lived there now apparently, which was super cool but Sam kind of already had a place? He had a lot of questions; like did he have to pay rent? Was this a long-time thing or just until Tony got bored? Also, did Tony steal Peter? Where had that kid come from?

Spider-man popped into his head as the two men walked past the kid's door. He had a few rooms to himself, that Tony had fully decked out with whatever the teenagers heart could possibly desire. Which apparently was a bunch of science stuff. Nerds.

Cap paused as he went past one of the doors, peering through the little window, and his expression was complicated enough that Sam came to look too.

It was the kid, by himself in his new bed, trying to stand on his own. Sam now understood Steve's expression, because of course it was great that Peter was working hard to get better, but it also probably wasn't a good idea to try walking on his own just yet.

Cap's hand went to the door handle, but Sam stopped him. "Wait, give him a chance."

Peter was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at his swinging legs and flexing his feet back and forth as if convincing himself that he could work them enough to walk. His hands were pressed to the mattress, and he frowned, taking a deep breath, before pushing himself from the edge.

Just a little at a time, touching his feet to the floor and testing to see if he could hold his weight. Cap got nervous, mumbling under his breath. "He could get hurt."

Sam watched the kids determined face. "I know, but he needs to test himself. He needs to know if he can do it."

Steve didn't like the idea of just watching, standing behind the door, until something bad happened, but Sam was usually right when it came to rehabilitation. He knew Sam was well versed in helping people recover, and that he knew what he was doing, but it still made him nervous.

Peter placed both of his feet on the ground, hands still on the bed, to take his weight, but when he tried to shift that weight to his feet, he dipped. His knees threatened to give out, and Steve flinched forward as Peter caught himself on the bed before he could fall to the floor.

Sam could feel the tension in Steve's shoulder beside him, and laid a hand on his arm. "Give him a minute, Steve."

They watched as the teenager took a breath, eyes firmly fixed on the ground, before he looked in front of him to where his bedroom opened up into a lounge, letting the two men know what his target was. The couch was just half a room away, but it seemed such a long way for someone who hadn't walked since almost dying.

He hesitated, hanging on to the side of his bed, before he suck in a breath and pushed himself off, standing on his own two feet.

Sam held his breath, as he watched Peter try to walk on his own. The problem wasn't that he couldn't use his legs, it was that after a brain injury, its hard for the thoughts to become commands, to become movements. That, and he'd been laying in bed for almost two weeks, and wasn't used to being on his feet again. So, although he tried his best, he only made it two shaky steps before his legs gave out and he tumbled to the floor.

He cried out as he hit the ground, catching himself with his hands, and laying there for a moment before rolling onto his back. Sam sighed sadly, dropping his hand from Steve's arm; but the super soldier didn't go in right away, because Peter was crying.

It started silently, just a few tears running down his temples as he stared up at the ceiling, but soon his chest was heaving, and a few whimpers left his mouth. Sam felt his heart break just a little, as Peter squeezed his eyes shut and raised a hand to cover them, the other pressing to the ground in a fist, until his knuckles were white.

Steve let out a breath, not wanting to embarrass the kid, but also not able to leave him on the floor, crying and alone, either.

He opened the door quietly, Sam coming in behind him, watching as Peter dropped his hand from his face and opened his eyes. He didn't look surprised to see them there, only released a sob as they came over to him.

"I couldn't do it."

Steve knelt beside him on the ground, and gently slid his hands behind Peters back, picking him up off the ground, to sit him up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around him, and just held the teenager as he cried. "I know, I'm sorry."

Peter clung to the man's shirt, too upset to really care that he was blubbering in front of his heroes. "I just wanted to do something by myself, to feel like I was okay again. But I couldn't even make it a few steps. I'm supposed to be spider-man, I'm supposed to help people."

It was Sam that spoke this time, kneeling next to Cap on the floor. "You do help people, Peter. You just need time to get better, and there's nothing wrong with that. Do you know how many times we've all been knocked down? We can't always get up as quickly as we'd like to; that doesn't make you any less of a hero."

He made a good point, but it didn't make Peter feel any less pathetic, sitting on the floor and crying.

Steve rubbed a hand over the kids back, as he calmed down, pulling in shaky breathes and rubbing a hand over his eyes to wipe away his embarrassing tears. He felt like a child, and that feeling only got stronger as the door opened again.

"Hey, how do you like the new-" Tony walked in, smile melting off his face as he saw the three on the floor, expression turning to one of panic before he had even raced over.

"Peter? What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to call Dr Adams? I-" He crouched down next to the boy and took his shoulders, looking him over for any visible damage. Peter let out a small laugh as he interrupted his panicked rambling.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just…tripped that's all. Seriously, don't freak out."

Tony didn't look convinced, turning to Steve and Sam with wide eyes. "Is he telling the truth? Tell me what happened, because if he hit his head again I'll need to-"

Steve shook his head, while Peter wiped the last of his tears away with a fist over his cheek as he sniffed. Tony noticed and leant down to cheek his face, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Tony, he didn't hit his head, he just tripped. It's fine we were here the whole time."

Peter gently pushed Tony's hand away, from where it was pressed to his cheek, and he looked down at the ground to try and hide his blush. "You don't have to worry about me all the time, I'm not a baby. I just thought I could try and make it across the room on my own."

Tony sighed, leaning back, to give the kid some breathing room. "You know that's going to take some practice even with your- Wait." Peter looked up at the billionaire as he interrupted himself. His eyes were wide, and a smile was slowly creeping onto his face.

"Wait, Peter. You just said a full two sentences. In a row."

The teenager shrugged, not realising himself, but trying to act nonchalant about it. "Um, I guess."

"Peter! That's amazing! You're progressing so fast!" He looked so happy, that Peter couldn't help but smile, as he leant against Caps chest, where he still held him.

He didn't feel quite as silly then, with Mr Stark bubbling with excitement at how much he'd improved already, and it reminded him that just two weeks ago, he'd been a vegetable.

Tony couldn't seem to keep the smile off his face, as he took Peters hands to pull him up from the ground. "I can't believe it! This is incredible, I can't wait to show April and Dr Adams. Come on, let's get you off the floor. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Steve kept his hands around Peters waist, holding the kids weight so that he could shuffle his feet forward enough to, sort of, walk to the couch.

Tony was right about them being busy; he had the whole day scheduled out, as well as the rest of the week. First was study, then physical therapy with Cap, followed by dinner with everyone and some down time before work in the lab with Tony, and finally bed. Peter rolled his eyes at the fact that he had a scheduled bedtime, but he really did appreciate the work that Tony was putting into everything.

He even offered to help peter with his homework, of which he had a huge pile of. Call him a nerd all you like, but peter was actually relieved to be able to do something familiar, something that he was good at but was still challenging enough to be interesting.

He didn't need much help, but Tony stayed with him for the company anyway, smiling when peter laughed at the notes ned had leant him, which had messages to his best friend scrawled over the margins.

'Class is really boring without you, and flash keeps making jokes when the teacher says organism like we haven't heard that before. Why don't you have your phone on you? I've texted you a million times aSCREW YOU PARKER IM NOT DOING YOUR PART OF THE GROUP ASSIGNMENT!'

The handwriting changed abruptly, and tony pointed to the aggressive scrawl. "Who's that?"

Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled out his bio notes. "MJ, we're kind of friends but I think she also kind of hates me? She's going to be mad about that group assignment, cause it was due four days ago."

Something suddenly occurred to him, something he should have thought about earlier, but had been overshadowed by his excitement about being around the avengers. "Um, Mr. Stark? Where do they think I am? I was only supposed to be on the "internship" for a few days. What did you tell them?"

Tony shrugged. "I just said that you were working hard and getting settled into the company. May wasn't happy about it, but I talked to your school about getting it to count for credit, and that calmed her down."

Sweet, that would help with the classes he'd missed. "She hasn't heard from me in two weeks, she's going to be freaking out."

This time Tony was a little more embarrassed, keeping his eyes on peters homework as he spoke, words falling fast as if peter wouldn't notice them that way.

"Actually I've been sending her emails, with photos of the place and little clips from that video you were taking on the way here with happy."

Peter blushed at the last part. "You know about that?"

Tony looked sideways at him, smiling slightly. "Yes. It's fine, just don't show any of the super hero parts to anyone, not even your friend. He's been texting you non stop by the way."

Peter sighed, as tony handed over his phone. "Yeah, he's probably worried too."

Tony stood from the desk and patted the kid on the shoulder. "I'll leave you to make your calls and such, just don't forget to do your homework. You have training with Steve in an hour, and if you need anything just ask Friday and she'll sort it."

"Thanks Mr. Stark."

Peter wasn't sure what he was going to say to May; because even if he had apparently been sending emails to her, she would still be worried that she hadn't gotten a real phone call. She would definitely yell, maybe cry, and probably demand he came home.

He took a deep breath, and dialled.

Click. "PETER BENJAMIN PARKER, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

"May, I-"

"I have been here all on my own, just waiting for you to tell me when the hell you're coming back! I don't care who that Tony Stark is, he cannot just STEAL my nephew! Are you okay? Are you coming home? Why haven't you been calling me?"

Peter waited till she was done, running a hand through his hair as he tried to explain. "I'm really sorry, I totally forgot to call. I was just so excited, this internship is really cool. Mr Starks been super nice, I have my own room to stay in, and he's teaching me lots of stuff, he even said he can get it to count as credit for school."

May sighed, and Peter could practically see her pacing the room as she spoke, sounding tired. "Okay, as long as you're all right and having fun. He's not working you too hard is he?"

An image of The Winter Soldier's metal arm swinging towards his face, slipped into Peters mind, and he shook his head, voice high. "No, of course not."

"And you're safe?"

Another image, this one of hanging onto War Machines leg as he flew at a giant Ant Man. He scoffed, tone too high to be believable. "Yeah! Of course!"

May paused for a moment, before ignoring it and carrying on. "And you're eating enough? Did you get your homework notes from Ned? I sent them to you."

He had indeed. Peter pushed them across the table as he tried to ignore how many deadlines he'd missed while in the coma. "Yep, I'm doing it now. And of course I'm eating enough, mr Starks a billionaire."

"You really need to call ned too, honey. You haven't been answering your phone and he's getting anxious about it, he keeps calling asking if you're home yet. When are you coming home? Tony Stark can't keep you forever."

Peter bit his lip, as he looked down at his legs, clad in dark blue sweatpants. He couldn't go home until he could walk, but he didn't know when that was going to be. "Umm, soon I think. He's got me working on a project for him, and it's really complicated. I'll call Ned tonight."

The line went quiet for a moment, before May sighed, her voice quiet. "I miss you so much, Peter. I hate being all alone here."

The teenager squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his fingers against them, as he tried to keep his voice steady, because it all hit him at once. May hated being alone, especially after Uncle Ben died, and he had just left her there. He had almost died, and she hadn't even known. He could have never come home, and she would have lost everyone. He felt awful.

It took a moment, but Peter dropped his hand and spoke with an impressively steady voice, as he blinked the mist from his eyes. "I miss you too, May. I'm sorry, I'll be home soon. I love you."

He could hear the smile in her voice at that, and it made him feel a little better. "I love you too, honey."

He ended the call and leant his head in his hands, massaging his fingers through his hair as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

He almost left her. All on her own.

"Peter? Are you okay?"

The teenagers head snapped up, to see Steve in the doorway a concerned look on his face. Peter sniffed and wiped his cheeks, embarrassed to be seen blubbering again.

"I-I'm okay. Sorry, I was just talking to Aunt May."

Steve nodded, and gestured to the kid. "Can I come in?"

Peter quickly pulled his homework into a pile, and out of the way, as he nodded. Steve came and sat beside him, and it was hard not to feel a little intimidated. He sniffled again, keeping his head low. "Sorry."

Steve frowned, clasping his hands in front of him nervously. "You don't have to be sorry for anything, Peter. I know you must miss her. Actually I should be the one apologizing, this is my fault."

Peter didn't think he'd heard that right. His nose scrunched up as he looked up at the man beside him.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Steve didn't know if he could look at him. "I'm the one that hit you so many times, I caused your head injury. I hurt you, Peter, and for that I'm so, so, sorry." He'd been mincing the words around, ever since Sam had called him about it. He had felt the weight of the guilt every time he looked at the kid, the heaviness of it almost choking him when he'd seen Peter fall while trying to walk on his own. He didn't know what Peter was going to say, but he really wasn't expecting total calm.

"It's okay."

"What?"

Peter shrugged, massaging a hand on his thigh as he scrunched up his socked toes. "I mean, this isn't all that fun, and I miss Aunt May and Ned, but it's not your fault."

Steve repressed a scoff. Tony had said that the kid was basically a smaller version of Captain America, with all the boy scout politeness and cheer, so he shouldn't be all that surprised.

Peter answered, as if it were obvious. "It was a fight, people get hit in fights. And Mr Stark told me you were pulling your punches anyway. I've read all about you in class, and seen videos of you fighting those aliens from the big attack. You took down most of hydra by yourself, and you tear giant robots apart like its nothing. I know you could have killed me if you wanted."

Steve thought about the way Tony's voice had cracked when he'd told him about Peter flatlining twice. "I almost did."

Peter shook his head, a small smirk playing at his mouth. "Well, yeah but I mean you could have killed me with one punch, and you didn't. I know you didn't want to hurt me, we were just on opposite teams. It's not your fault, really Mr Rogers-or do I call you Captain Rogers?"

That got a small smile out of Steve and he wrapped an arm around the teenagers shoulders.

"Just call me Steve, or Cap if you want."

Peter blushed a little at the arm around him, still not used to being so chummy with the first avenger, the legend that he had learnt about in american history classes his whole life.

"Okay, thanks, Steve Sir."

Cap couldn't help but smile at the kids politeness, seeing the awe on his face, from the corner of his eyes. He looked back down at him while Peter tried to suppress his smile.

"No problem. So, do you want any help with your homework before we do some physical therapy? Buck and I can help with your history, since we were there for a lot of it."

Peter didn't need that much help, he could have managed on his own, but who the hell is going to turn down an offer like that?

"Sure! Thanks!"


	6. Chapter 6

"Keep going, you've got it. Push hard, I can take it."

Peter clenched his teeth and pushed against Steve's hand where he held the teenagers foot, feeling the strain of his muscles, and the slight shake where his strength wavered. His hands clenched where he lay on the padded bench, and he let out a puff of air, when his foot finally pressed Steves hand back all the way.

"There you go! You're getting stronger by the second, soon enough you'll be catching cars again, no problem."

Peter caught his breath, chest heaving as his leg was placed back down to hang off the end of the bench. "You saw that?"

Steve offered his hand to the kid, pulling him up so to a sitting position, and handing him a water bottle.

"You probably don't know this, because he isn't exactly good at talking to people about the important things, but Tony is seriously impressed by you, in fact we all are. He wouldn't stop talking about you when you were in the coma; he was showing us videos, and going on and on about how smart you are. So, trust me when I say you can do this."

Peter couldn't help but blush, biting his lip to try and hide his smile. "I...thank you. That means...everything coming from you."

Steve waved a hand like it was nothing, picking up some weights as he started his own workout, while Peter caught his breath; but he had more questions.

"So, did you really used to do shows? Like, in a costume with showgirls?"

Steve ducked his head, laughing, as another voice came across the room; it was laced with amusement, breaking off at the end in a laugh.

"You better believe it! And he wore tights and little booty shorts too! Never once spoke to any of those girls either, what a wasted opportunity."

The winter soldier strode across the room, a towel around his neck, and cheeks flushed from his workout. Steve scoffed and shoved his friends shoulder, with a smile.

"Shut up, Buck. You're the one who asked me to keep the outfit."

Peter watched as Bucky stepped closer to Steve, a smirk on his face as he bit his lip. "Well, what can I say? You look good in a uniform."

The two men were looking at each other with…something in their eyes, something like fondness and heat. Steves eyes flickered down to Buckys mouth before he smiled, blushing, and pushed his friend back.

"Stop, I'm supposed to be training with Peter. Are you going to help, or are you going to keep distracting me?"

Bucky sighed, seeming happy to have made Steve blush so thoroughly, and threw his towel down. "Sure, what are we doing?"

Peter smiled a little to himself, even though he knew he now owed MJ an apology for doubting her suspicion about the great Captain Rogers and his 'friend'.

Steve went through some more stretches with Peter, working his muscles so that they would get stronger, and allow him to support himself enough to walk; but after an hour, Steve wanted to stop.

"You did really great, but we don't want to overwork it."

But Peter didn't want to stop, he didn't want to give up; because the sooner he could walk, the sooner he got to go home. He shook his head, and gripped the walking bars hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

"I can keep going."

He was holding himself up, staring down at his feet as he tried to drag them forward, but he was so tired already. His knees wobbled, and his hands shook, as he panted.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, but he shook his head to try and clear his head. He just had to work harder, if he worked hard, he could go home.

Steve tried again, taking Peters arm, and tugging it away from the bars, but the teenager shook it off. "Peter, you're going to hurt yourself. You need to take it easy."

"No, I need to walk. Then I can take it easy."

Steve sent a worried look to Bucky, who shrugged in response; there wasn't much they could do to stop the kid, besides carrying him back to his room. Steve would have happily done so, but Peter just wouldn't let them.

"Peter-" Steve's hand found Peters waist, ready to pull him away from the bars, but despite Peters injuries, he was still spiderman. His hands stuck to the bars, and he refused to let go, glaring at the first avenger until he stopped pulling and sighed.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I have to-"

"No, tell me why."

He shook his head, watching as the teenager clenched his jaw and squeezed the bars hard enough to make the wood groan.

"Are you going to help me, or not? Because I'm not going back to bed just because you think I should be taking it easy. I was in a coma for a week, I've had enough rest."

Steve wasn't happy about it, but the kid had a point. He'd been stuck in bed, stuck inside his own body, unable to move, and stuck with no way to make his own choices; the least he could do was help him make them now, weather they were the wrong choice or not.

He sighed, relenting. "Fine. One more lap, and you're done, I mean it."

Peter was determined to get to the other end of the bars, but the effort it took to win the argument with Cap, had taken the little energy he had left. He'd been working so hard during the physical therapy, and then fought to be able to stay at the bars, and his body didn't have anything else to give.

His chest heaved, as he drew in exhausted breath, waist dipping lower as it grew harder to hold himself up. Steve placed his hands at the teenagers waist, to catch him should he fall, and it took all his self control not to pull Peter away when his arms began to tremble.

His body wanted to give up, but Peter wanted to see his Aunt May. He missed her so much; he missed being woken up by her singing in the morning, the smell of whatever she was burning in the kitchen, and her hugs, damn he missed her hugs. He couldn't go home until he walked, and so he would walk, even if it felt like the hardest thing he'd ever done. His legs just wouldn't cooperate, they were weak and clumsy, and he had no stamina; every step felt like a mile up a mountain, and all his body wanted to do was lay down.

Small grunts of effort slipped from behind his clenched teeth, as he made it a few steps forward, before his body began to give up.

First his vision began to blur, eyes closing of their own accord, and feeling like weights as he dragged them back open. And then his arms gave out, knees buckling as the room tilted and he fell.

Steve watched the kid stumble, groaning softly as he began to lose his grip on the bars, and then he was falling limp, to the ground.

"Steve!"

Bucky lunged forward, calling out, as Steve caught Peter and lowered him to the floor, holding him up against his chest. The kid was out cold, eyes rolled back into his head, and pulse racing where Steve placed his fingers at his throat.

"Shoot, I knew he was overdoing it."

Bucky knelt beside him, as the other man sighed and brushed Peters hair back, away from his closed eyes. "Is he okay?"

"I think so. He just pushed himself too hard."

Bucky's voice was tired. "Tony's going to lose it if he sees him like this."

Steve looked up at the man, tilting his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes, at Bucky's expression, because he knew what he was going to say. "We can't just not tell him."

"It would be really easy to not tell him, actually. He freaks out about everything, why don't we just take Peter to the good Doctor, make sure he's okay, and then...never tell Stark about it?"

Steve looked down at the kid in his arms, looking exhausted and pale, and rolled his eyes. How many times was he going to let Bucky talk him into stupid plans?

"Fine, but if this is anything but exhaustion, we are telling him."

Bucky raised his hands in surrender, as Cap scooped Peter up and carried him to the med bay. Dr Adams rushed over as soon as they walked in, forehead creased in concern as he directed them to a bed.

"My god, what happened?"

Steve lay Peter down, being careful of his limp limbs, and rearranging him gently, so that he was laying on his side.

"He passed out at the walking bars. I tried to get him to take a break but he wasn't having it."

Dr Adams carefully checked the teenager over, frowning to himself as he tapped at screens and pulled out equipment.

"He really needs to pace himself, he's just going to cause more damage if he works so hard he causes acute hypoglycemia."

Bucky stood at the end of the kids bed, arms crossed. "And that is…?"

The Doctor carefully placed a needle in Peters arm, and hung a bag on the IV pole, as he answered. "He worked so hard his blood sugar dropped, and he fainted. He'll be fine, he just needs to rest, and get some nutrients in him."

Steve dragged a stool over and sunk down onto it, putting his head in his hands. "I tried to get him to stop, but he's just so determined."

Bucky repressed the urge to roll his eyes at Steve's tendency to blame himself, and picked up a pen from a nearby bench. "There's also the fact that you couldn't physically remove him from the bars without hurting him. I know he's spiderman but the sticky thing is still weird."

Dr Adams looked up from his work to watch Bucky press the pen to Peters bare feet, the assassin snickering when it stuck. Steve frowned and shoved lightly at his friends arm. "Can you not play with him when he's unconscious, please?"

Bucky tried to be serious, but the pen was just sticking to the kids foot, and he was very tempted to try to add more. "What? Doc said he's fine, and you did your best, okay? He's a teenager, they don't listen to anyone."

Dr Adams smiled a little, taping the line down to the kids arm. "He is very strong willed, and yes, he will be fine. But, maybe no more physical therapy for a little while. Have you told Tony yet? I thought he'd be down here already."

Cap rubbed at his forehead, never having been good at lying. "Umm, well...we were thinking that, maybe he didn't need to know? He'll just freak out and Peter doesn't really need that."

Dr Adams frowned, not happy about lying to the man that paid him, but Peter groaned and rolled onto his back, before he could say anything to chastise the first avenger.

"Ughhh...dizzy."

Steve leant forward, while Bucky tried to pry the pen off the kids foot before he could notice, the doctor standing over Peter to try and stop him from getting up.

"Don't try to get up, you'll just fall over again. You need to eat something before you get out of this bed."

Spider-Mans eyes opened a crack, seeing the three men around him, and he groaned in embarrassment as he remembered what happened. He covered his eyes with a hand, wishing he could sink into the floor and disappear.

"Oh my god. Did I-?"

Steve crossed his arms and stood from his seat, looking like a very disappointed father figure. Peter peeked at him from behind his fingers, as Steve answered his unfinished question.

"Faint? Yes. Because you wouldn't give yourself a break. Why didn't you listen to me?"

Dr Adams took his leave, nodding to Bucky as he went.

Peter fiddled with the tape on his arm, avoiding Caps gaze. "I just...I didn't want to give up. I want to get better."

Steve sighed and sat on the bed, pulling Peters fingers away from the needle. "You know that's going to take time. And I know it's not all that fun, but we're all here for you. You just need to be patient."

But he couldn't be patient, because he'd been away for too long already, and May didn't even know why he couldn't come home.

"I can't, I have to get better now! She needs me."

Bucky gave up on the pen, and took the other side of the bed. "Who needs you?"

Peter hated it, but his eyes began to grow damp. "My Aunt May. She worries about me all the time, and ever since my Uncle died, she doesn't like to be alone at home. But now I've been gone for two weeks, and she doesn't even know what's happened to me. One time, about a week after Ben died, I got detention at school, but they forgot to call her, and they took my phone, so by the time I got back home, she was crying in the kitchen. She called all the emergency rooms, and even the police. She was freaking out, just because I was an hour late. But I almost died in Germany, and she didn't know, all she knows is that I'm not coming home yet, and this has all been so scary and painful and I just...I really, really miss her."

Steve didn't know what to say to that, watching as Peter sniffed, and wiped his eyes as his bottom lip wobbled.

"I'm so sorry Peter, I didn't know."

The teenager played with his fingers, nervously. "The sooner I get better, the sooner I can see her. That's why I didn't want to stop. I'm sorry for yelling at you, and for not listening."

Steve's hand found younger heros shoulder, as he dipped his head to meet Peters eyes. "It's okay, just talk to me next time, all right?, And hey, I'm going to do everything I can to help you get better so you can get back to her. But we have to be smart about it, you can't be pushing yourself so hard you faint."

Bucky followed the Captains lead and patted the kid on the shoulder. "Yeah, you'll end up giving Tony a heart attack."

Peter winced, at both the idea of Tony finding out, and the way his head ached as he tried to sit up.

"Yeah, is it okay if we don't tell him? He'll just freak out and then-" The teenagers face screwed up as he stared at his foot, curling his toes. "Why is there a pen stuck to my foot?"

Bucky shrugged like he had no idea, only crumbling when Steve glared at him. "What? It's funny."

…..

By the time Dr Adams had checked Peter over, and deemed him okay enough to leave the med bay, it was dinner time. Peter was still tired after his workout, and mostly listened to the older avengers talk, and argue about missions and war stories.

He'd never had siblings, or a big family, it had always just been him, May and Ben, but he found it nice to be at a table where dinner was so rambunctious.

Tony was laughing and calling things out to Rhodey, asking him to back him up about how big one particular bad guy had been, as Bucky laughed so hard he slammed his metal arm clear through the table.

So, it got a little messy, but it was like a giant family, especially when Steve started delegating jobs to everyone.

"The dishes aren't going to wash themselves, Wanda. And Buck, go get the broom for the mess you made."

Tony rolled his eyes and groaned loudly. "Christ, you are old. We have a dishwasher, and this is my tower, you are not the captain here you crone."

Peter would have liked to see the ensuing argument, but he was so tired he could barely hold his head up in his hand.

Natasha noticed, smiling as she watched the kids eyes dip lower and lower, before snapping open again as he jerked awake. The poor kid was falling asleep at the table, not wanting to miss out on any time with his heroes.

Clint and Rhodey noticed too, smiling as Peter's head fell to the table before coming back up as he flinched at Tonys loud laugh. Peter tried his best to fight his fatigue, but it had been a long day, and he had eaten so much at dinner that his tummy was warm and full, and it made him so sleepy he couldn't help it.

Tony continued to tease Steve about what a fossil he was, as Peter gave up and folded his arms on the table, making a pillow for himself. He lay his head down and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

Natasha could barely contain her laugh as the kid begun to let out little snores, alerting the rest of the team to the napping spider.

Tony stopped mid insult, turning to the table and sighing. "Aw damn, it's not even his bedtime yet. How hard did you work him in physical therapy, Steve?"

Cap smiled as he approached the teenager, Stark right behind him. "I wanted him to take it easy but he was determined; went and tuckered himself out."

Tony wasn't one for physical affection, but Peters hair was falling over his eyes and he couldn't help but gently brush it away. "Yeah, he's a good kid isn't he?" His voice was quiet, and soaked in pride and fondness, so much so that the room went quiet.

Tony forced the smile from his face, and pulled his hand back, embarrassed. He wasn't Peters dad, there was no need to get so soft about it.

The room was full of knowing looks, but Tony cleared his throat and ignored them all, tucking his hands behind his back.

"Well, whos going to carry the baby Avenger to bed? I may not be as old as the two living fossils we have in the room but I would definitely throw my back out if I tried."

Steve sighed and stepped forward, gently pulling Peter's chair out, and catching him before he could fall out of it. The kid's eyes opened for a second before slipping closed again, as he was scooped into the first avengers arms. He was so tired he couldn't even be embarrassed about it, and only wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and put his head on his shoulder.

Tony patted his back as they walked to his room, Steve smiling as Peter pressed his forehead to the crook of his neck.

"Come on, Peter; lets get you to bed."

In true teenager fashion, he would not be compliant with simply doing what he was told, and mumbled against Caps shirt.

"But I'm not tired. Steeeveee, tell Tony."

Despite his protests, he still didn't open his eyes when Steve lowered him into his mattress, tucking the blankets over him.

"Night, Pete."


	7. Chapter 7

Blood, too much of it. Pain, burning, stabbing. Screams, Tony's face begging him to hang on.

And then it was all gone, eyes snapping open as his breath was pushed out of him in one go.

Peter woke with a scream, jolting upright in his bed, as his hands curled into fists in his blankets.

His heart raced as he looked around the room, taking a minute to realize where he was. Stark tower, in his room; he was safe.

He was used to nightmares, having had more than his fair share of them after his Uncle died; but usually, May would be there afterwards. She'd come running to his room and hold him, she'd brush his hair back and tell him everything was okay. But the room was quiet, and still, and his Aunt wasn't there.

It was early, earlier than he usually started the day, but it was late enough that there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, so he went out to the kitchen in search of food instead.

It had been a few days since his last disastrous physical therapy session with Cap, and he was stronger now, knees still a little wobbly, but solid enough to take him most places he wanted to go.

Peters head was loud and annoying, images from his nightmare flashing behind his eyelids, and he rubbed at them, annoyed, as he padded out into the hall. The lights were dimmed, with many of the towers occupants still asleep, so he wasn't expecting to hear anyone talking.

His ears honed in on the voice as soon as he heard it, recognizing it to be Tony's. He was talking to someone, Peter thought it might have been Happy.

"It was a mistake bringing him in, and I won't make that mistake again. It's all just such a mess, his Aunt keeps calling asking when he's coming home, but I can't tell her the truth. And now he's having nightmares; she's going to kill me if she finds out what happened to him. I mean, he shouldn't even be here, it's been weeks since the fight, and he's still recovering. He's missing school, and his friends; the whole thing got out of hand."

Happy's voice was tired. "What are you gonna do?"

Tony sighed, sounding equally tired, and Peter could practically see the way he'd be rubbing his hand over his eyes. "I brought him into this, this is on me; I'll make sure he doesn't get hurt again."

Peters heart sunk. Tony didn't want him to be Spider-Man anymore, he didn't want anything to do with him. It was like being hit by Ant-Man all over again. He didn't know what to do.

The voices drew closer, as the two figured walked down the hall towards Peter, and he quickly made it to his room, locking himself in and sinking to the floor, with his back pressed to the door.

He had thought Tony liked him, he thought he wanted him to stay, but now he felt like a burden; a lasting reminder of Tony's mistake that wouldn't leave.

The rest of the day was spent in his room, avoiding Tony. Everytime he heard him coming he'd scurry off to another part of the tower, or crawl on the ceiling until he left.

He knew it was a little silly, but it had really hurt to hear his hero and mentor say that it had been a mistake ever meeting him. It made his insides screw up into a ball, of anxiety and guilt.

So, he sulked in his room and stayed away from Tony.

He had started texting Ned, now that he was getting ready to come home, and he was absorbed in their messages when a tiny knock came at the door.

He sighed and typed a reply back, as he called out to the door. "I'm busy!"

Knock. Knock.

"Ugh, seriously? I just want to be left alone!"

Peter looked to the door, waiting to see if the knock would come again; when none came, he went back to his messages.

'I miss u 2 dude and I promise I'll be back soon but Mr Starks got me working real hard. tnx for the homework btw and for letting MJ scribble on-'

Knock. Knock.

Peter groaned and slid his phone across his desk in frustration, hauling himself up from his chair, and leaning a hand against the wall as he got to the door. His legs were not completely, steady yet and he'd fallen enough times to have learnt to stick close to things he could lean on.

Knock. Knock.

Peter hobbled faster, grumbling as he flung the door open. "Did you not hear me the first...time?"

Peter was expecting Tony, or Steve, possibly Sam, but definitely not a little girl with pigtails and a backpack. She smiled up at him, as he stared in confusion.

"Hi, can you help me find my dad? I don't know where he is."

Peter said nothing for a moment, unsure of how a little girl could be wandering around Stark tower alone; before realising he should actually do something, like answer.

"Sure, who is your dad?"

"His names Scott, he wears an ugly helmet and a wetsuit sometimes."

Peter laughed at her description, recognising the outfit as Ant-Mans. "Yeah it is pretty ugly. Um, I don't know where he is but I can send him a message and tell him to meet you here? You can hang out with me till he gets here. I'm Peter, by the way."

The girl nodded and stepped through the door as Peter held it open, looking around his room with wide eyes.

"I'm Cassie."

Peter nodded and hobbled his way back to his desk, pulling a chair up for the girl and gesturing to a box of crayons that had been sitting there when he got the room. "Mr Stark left those for me as a joke, but we can do some coloring if you want? Here, you get started."

She happily took the colourful box and some paper that Peter handed her, as the teenager called out to the AI that ran through the whole building.

"Hey, Friday? Call Scott, let him know Cassie's here."

"Sure thing, Peter."

Peter hadn't used crayons in years, but Cassie was already filling her page with colour, so he got started on his own as he chatted to her.

"So, you're hanging out with your dad today? That must be fun."

Her tongue was sticking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated, and she swept the crayon over the paper to colour the sky blue as she answered. "Yeah, he's taking me to the fair, and he even said he could let me see Spider-Man, because they're friends."

Peter couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face at that. "You like Spider-Man?"

She nodded emphatically, holding up her drawing to show a crude depiction of the web slinger, and herself, fighting crime together. "Yeah! He's so cool, but the news said he's been gone for a while, and they don't know where he is. I hope he's okay."

She put her drawing down, and continued to colour the sky, and Peter could no longer look at the drawing without feeling as if his guts were turning inside out. Because Mr Stark had said he didn't want Peter to be Spider-Man anymore, and apparently the public had already noticed that he was gone.

Cassie's drawing was of Spider-Man saving the day, but now that might not happen again. He'd failed his mission, and Tony didn't want him on the team anymore.

Cassie's voice interrupted his mellon-collie thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Peter looked up, to find her watching him with concern; he hadn't meant to look so sad, but she patted his hand on the desk.

"Are you worried about him too? It's okay, I know he'll come back."

She seemed so confident, while Peter didn't even know himself if he would be coming back.

"How do you know?"

She shrugged, drawing webs onto her page. "Because he's Spider-Man. He can do anything."

"Cassie!" Both kids heads turned to the door, where Scott was waiting with a smile, arms open wide to catch his daughter as she jumped into them. Peter stood from the desk, pressing his lips together at the loving scene of a father and his kid, that made his heart ache a little for his Uncle Ben.

Scott noticed, and set Cassie back down on the floor. "Hey, can you go wait just in that room over there? I need to talk to Peter, but I'll be right there." He pointed to the nearby kitchen, and watched his daughter leave, before turning to the teenager.

"Thanks for helping her, she's a big fan of yours you know."

Peter nodded, squeezing his hands together in front of himself. "Yeah, no problem. She's sweet."

Scott hesitated, not knowing how to approach the kicked puppy look on Peters face, since they didn't actually know each other that well. And also because he'd been responsible for smacking the kid to the ground on the fight on the first place.

"Are you...are you okay? I heard Tony has been trying to find you all day, and you haven't really left your room. He's been getting worried."

Peter bit his lip but didn't say anything, looking down at the ground instead. Scott sighed and tried again. "Look, Cassie is still a kid, I don't know how to do the dad thing for anyone above ten, so just spill it or I'll have to do something weird like tickle you or something."

Peter sank back down to his chair, Scott watching him worriedly. "Mr Stark doesn't want me here. He said it was all a mistake."

Scott wasn't expecting that. "Oh."

The teenager nodded, grateful to have someone to talk to about it, even if it was the guy that had almost killed him.

"When he first came to me, and asked me to fight with him, I thought I'd finally gotten my chance to become a real hero. But I screwed up, and now it's over. I didn't want to see him, just to hear him say it to me in person. That's why I've been avoiding him."

Scott took the chair his daughter had previously been sitting in, and frowned. "When did you hear him say this?"

"This morning, he was talking to Happy."

Scott nodded. "Okay, firstly, eavesdropping never ends well. Don't do that. Second, I'm pretty sure you must have heard him wrong, because Tony's been bragging about you since Germany. It's actually very annoying, cause I'm new too, and I literally ripped a plane apart as a giant, and I didn't get any compliments from him at all."

Peter smiled just a little, scrunching up his nose as he gave the man a sideways glance. "Well, a piece of that plane that you ripped apart, did end up stabbing me...so…"

Scott winced and patted Peter on the shoulder. "Right, sorry about that. I definitely did not mean for that to happen, I also didn't mean to hit you so, I'm sorry for that whole mess of a fight. Especially since Cassie is really upset that her favorite hero is MIA, and she'd kill me if she found out it was my fault."

He said 'favorite' a little bitterly, and Peter couldn't help but smile. "It's not your fault, it was a fight, stuff happens."

Scott was glad the kid was so understanding, but he still looked so sad. He tried again, hoping the young hero would listen.

"Peter, whatever you heard him say, has an explanation, and that explanation is probably that he's worried about you. It was really hard for him to see you hurt, and he has the biggest guilt complex of anyone I have ever met, so he's probably just trying to distance you from any more danger. Because like it or not, you're still a kid. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to Cassie, but I know I would do anything in this world to protect her."

Peter looked up at the man, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to wrap his head around what he just said. Maybe he _had_ heard him wrong? Maybe Tony really did just want to protect him.

Scott patted his shoulder and stood from the chair. "Go talk to him. You took on Captain America without flinching, you can do this too."

The man left, to go get his daughter, who smiled and waved at her new friend as they passed his door on their way out.

"Bye Peter! Thanks for letting me use your crayons!"

He waved back, smiling, mind still full of what Scott had said. Peter really didn't want to talk to Tony about what he'd heard, because it still hurt, and everyone calling him a kid was getting really annoying; but Scott was right, he needed to deal with it.

He found Tony in his lab, hunched over a table and working on...Peters Spider-Man suit?

Mr Stark looked up as he came in, waving him over. "Oh good, I was just about to ask Friday to get you. Come over here, I need an extra pair of hands on this."

Peter stared at the suit as he walked over, surprised to see Tony working on it.

"You're fixing it?" Why would he fix it if he didn't want Peter fighting anymore?

Tony's brow was furrowed in concentration as he nodded, repairing one of the eyes on the suit as he did.

"Yeah it got banged up when you did, and I'm adding a few things. How do you feel about a parachute?"

Peter ignored the question, in favor for one of his own. "So, you still want me on your team?"

Tony looked up from his work, but didn't stop what he was doing, hands moving over wires and conducting lines; but it was clear he didn't know what Peter's talking about. "There aren't really teams anymore, but you're going to need the suit when you go back home and fight crime, or help kids cross the street or whatever a spiderling does. You can't expect me to just allow you to walk around in those pyjamas you call a suit."

Peter's shoulders sagged, losing the tension he didn't know they held. He was more confused than he had been before, with more questions than answers. Tony seemed to have completely different opinions than he had that morning.

"But… I failed the mission. I thought you didn't want me to fight anymore."

Tony dropped his tools on the workbench, face pinching into something close to concern. "What are you talking about? You didn't fail anything."

"Steve and Bucky got away, and I broke the suit." It was almost like the conversation he'd overheard that morning had never taken place, Tony was acting completely different. Peter started to feel out of his depth, as if he'd run into the situation with a few overheard mumbles, and none of the information, and now he wasn't sure where he stood or what he was even looking for.

Tony searched his face, and seemed to find something there, pulling a stool to the table and patting it.

"Sit down. You didn't break the suit, it just needs a tune up, and you did not fail. I failed you. I shouldn't have let you come in the first place, it was stupid."

There it was. Peter sat down and squeezed his fingers together in his lap, staring down at them. His voice was small, and more childlike than he'd meant it to be. "So, you don't want me on your team."

Tony was more confused than before, abandoning his task completely and turning his stool towards the boy. "If I didn't want you on my team, I wouldn't have brought you here in the first place. You have incredible powers, and you're incredibly smart, of course I _want_ you on my team, but what I want doesn't matter. You're a kid, and I pulled you into something that ended up getting you hurt. You did a good job, you didn't fail anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I should have left you alone. This is my fault and I'm so sorry Peter."

The teenager sighed, annoyed. "Why does everyone keep saying that? It wasn't your fault, and I'm not a kid. You didn't do anything wrong."

Now Tony was getting annoyed, because he felt guilty, so guilty all the time it was a constant weight that he couldn't shake off, and now he was being denied it.

"I dragged you to Germany, I took you away from school, and your aunt and your friends! I pushed you into a fight that you weren't a part of, that you didn't understand and you almost died! Aren't you mad at me?"

Peter frowned, at Tony's raised voice, but he needed the kid to understand; he couldn't let him forgive him without knowing everything.

"No, of course I'm not mad!"

"You should be! You should hate me, Peter! I got you beaten up so bad your heart stopped beating!"

Peters eyes widened in surprise, as the room lay in sudden silence.

Tony was breathing hard, looking ashamed, as Peters voice came out small, and a little afraid. "My heart stopped?"

Suddenly, it was as if all the tension had leaked out of the room, popped like a balloon as soon as the admission was out. Peter had died.

Tony hung his head, slumping in his chair and rubbing his hands through his hair. He sounded so defeated. "This isn't on you Pete, none of it is. You did everything right, you.." He looked up, placing a hand on Peters shoulders as he looked in his eyes, meaning everything he said, and needing Peter to know that. "You did really good, and I'm sorry I pulled you into my mess."

"I'm not."

"What?" Tony's hand fell from Peters shoulder, as the teenager shrugged.

"I'm not saying it wasn't scary or painful but...if I had to choose again, I would still go with you."

Tony couldn't understand. After what he'd just told him, he still wasn't mad? "Why?"

"Because before I met you, I was trying to make my web shooters out of old dvd players I'd found in the dumpster, and spending all day sitting in class wishing I could get out of there and help people; hoping that I could be someone important."

"You are important." His words were adamant, but Peter shook his head.

"Thanks Mr Stark, but you know what I mean."

Tony wasn't good at comforting people, he wasn't good at motivating speeches like Steve always seemed to be spouting off in the midst of battle, but he truly cared about Peter, so he tried his best. "I think you're going to make a really great hero some day, but let's start off small for now. No fighting giants or battling super soldiers, just…"

"Standing up for the little guy."

Tony smiled. "Exactly."

Peter certainly felt better than he had that morning, but he still wasn't sure about a few things.

"So, does this mean you still want me to be Spider-Man? You aren't going to stop me?"

Tony turned back to the suit. "Why would I?"

Peter didn't want to admit that he'd been listening to his and Happy's conversation but he needed answers. "I heard you tell Happy it was a mistake bringing me in, and that you wouldn't make the same mistake again. I thought that meant, you wouldn't let me fight with you anymore."

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I didn't know you were listening. Is that why you were avoiding me all day?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I just...did you mean it?"

"I'm not good at caring about people, Peter. I wasn't supposed to care, but you just...your constant babbling, and your nerd t-shirts that look just like some of mine...I care, even if I don't want to. So, when you fell, and I saw you lying there, god, Peter I almost had a heart attack. I can't handle you getting hurt, and when I said I wouldn't be making the same mistake, I meant that I wouldn't let you get hurt again."

He gestured to the suit laying on the workbench. "That's why I'm upgrading it. You're going to have a parachute, and a tracker, coms, I was thinking of adding a defibrillator but I haven't managed to get the charge up high enough without it damaging the suit."

Peter's chest no longer felt as if it had been caved in, he no longer felt sick with worry that his hero hated him. In fact, Tony had just admitted that he cared? Peter smiled, trying not to let on just how much it meant.

"Thanks Mr Stark."

Tony gave him a small nod, and handed Peter a screwdriver. "No problem kid, now help me with this suit, you have training later."

….

Now that Peter was almost fully healed, the other Avengers had decided that he could use some training, and the first to volunteer her services was Natasha.

"You may have super strength, but you can still be light on your feet. Use it to your advantage when you sneak up on people."

"Like this?" She watched in amusement as Peter spider-crawled up the wall and across the gym ceiling, smiling down at his tutor.

"Hey, Black Widow, you're a spider. Why can't you do that?" Clint had also offered to help Peter with training but had mostly been commentating from his perch on the balcony above.

Natasha's face melted into a smile, although it was more of a mix of fondness and threat.

"New lesson, Peter. I'm going to show you all the ways you can snap someone's neck."

She moved so fast that Peter could barely keep up, as she flipped up onto the balcony and launched herself at her teammate, tackling him to the floor and wrapping her legs around his head.

Peter started laughing, letting go of the ceiling to hang from it by his feet, as he watched the two wrestle.

Clint had almost given up and tapped out, when someone knocked on the training wall, to get their attention.

"Sorry to interupt what looks to be a rousing lesson on sex positions, but I need to speak to Peter for a moment."

Peter nodded and flipped down from the ceiling, following Tony out of the gym and down the halls to his room.

"So, your wonderful aunt called, and insisted you come back home, and since you are all healed now I thought it might be time. I wanted to keep it for a surprise, and also she arrived without warning so, she and your friend Ted, are waiting in your room."

Peter sucked in an excited breath, not bothering to correct Mr Stark on Neds name. "They're here? I get to go home?"

Tony looked guilty, but tried to cover it as he stared at his watch, pretending to adjust something on it. "Yes. I am sorry that you had to stay here so long, but-"

Peter quickly interrupted, realizing how ungrateful he must have sounded before. "No, no, no! It was great! I love it here, it's awesome! I just...really miss her, and Ned."

Tony peeked a glance his way, nodding. "Good, because I'm going to try and convince her to let you come over for training every weekend. We will stick to the cover story of course, and it's only if you want to but-"

"That's awesome, thank you Mr Stark!"

Tony smiled, looking a little less flustered, as they arrived at Peters door. "Good. Okay then, they are waiting in there, I'll let you have your reunion while I have Happy pack up all your things. I've already finished the suit, and got it back in its case, so you take care of it."

Peter nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. He had been waiting for weeks to see May and Ned again, and he could barely wait a second longer. "I promise I'll take really good care of it."

"I know you will. Now, go in there your jet home leaves...well, whenever you like, it's my jet."

Peter turned to the door, hand on the handle, but paused and turned to the billionaire. "Mr Stark? I just...thank you, for everything."

Tony smiled and patted Peters shoulder. "No problem, kid."

Peter couldn't wait any longer, he opened the door, and stepped into his room, and was immediately engulfed in one of May's perfect hugs.

"Peter! Oh my god, I missed you so much!"

She smelt just like she always did, and Peter was so happy to be back in her arms that he felt his eyes prick with tears.

"I missed you too, May."

Another pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him too, as Ned joined the hug. "Dude! You left me at school with no friends, it sucked without you there! Even MJ missed you!"

Peter laughed at that, as May released him from her grip, to brush his fringe back as she searched his face.

"Thanks Ned."

"Are you okay? Have you been eating enough? Why did I have to come all the way here, just to get you home?"

The teenager almost rolled his eyes at that. "May, Mr Stark is a billionaire; of course I'm eating enough. And I know I've been away too long, but this internship is just so cool, I got all caught up in it. I've been learning about tech stuff and how Mr Stark runs his companies, it's been amazing."

Ned was already distracted with the room, picking up things and asking questions about everything. "You have your own room here? And he got you...crayons? Did you draw that?"

He picked up the picture that Cassie left behind, making Peter smile at the little figures on the page. Spider-Man and Cassie, saving the world.

"No, that was a kid that was here with her dad. Actually, May do you mind if I do something before we go? I just have to see someone really quick."

….

Cassie was drinking from a juice box in the lounge, when Peter and Scott peeked out from behind the corner.

"Thank you so much for doing this, seriously, she's going to be so happy."

Peter shrugged and pulled his mask down over his face. "No problem, you helped me today, and she's great. I don't get to meet my fans that often, since, usually I don't really have many."

Cassie didn't notice either of them, too focused on her book to see Peter crawling on the ceiling above her, but she smiled as Scott came in.

"Hey, do you remember when I said I had a special surprise for you?"

Cassie smiled, nodding.

"Well, it's here. So, close your eyes."

Peter looked down at the two, waiting until Cassie had her eyes closed, to lower himself to hang from a web in front of her.

Scott was smiling so wide, eager to see his daughter meet her hero, happy even if it wasn't him.

"Okay, open them."

Cassie let out a squeal as she saw Spider-Man in front of her, and she threw her hands up to her face as she was overcome with excitement.

"Spider-Man! You're okay!"

Peter nodded and held out his hand for a hand shake. "Of course I am! I heard you wanted to meet me, and I couldn't let you down could I?"

She took his hand, shaking it, and giggling when Peter groaned theatrically. "Woah you've got a strong grip! Are you sure you're not the one with super powers?"

She gazed up at him with huge eyes, scanning all over his suit, that she'd only been able to see in grainy videos on the news and on youtube.

"They said you were gone, were you hurt?"

Peter shook his head. "Nah, I just had a little bit of a…" She watched him curiously as he pretended to be warding off a sneeze. "A..cold...ahHHH CHOO!"

Peter pretended to sneeze, firing a web at Scott as he did, as if it were a giant splatter of snot. Cassie screamed with laughter as Scott made a show of complaining about how gross it was, as his daughter came over to pull at the sticky webbing, over his chest.

"Gross! That's so cool!"

Peter laughed at how excited she was. It was nice to feel appreciated, like he was a real hero and not just some kid that ran around New York in his pyjamas.

"It was nice to meet you, Cassie! I'd better go back to fighting crime, but you take care of your dad okay?"

She nodded, watching as Peter jumped down from his web, to crouch in front of her. She jumped forward and wrapped her little arms around his neck squeezing tight as he hugged her back.

"I promise! Thanks Spider-Man, you're my hero!"

Peter had never felt like more of a hero, than in that moment. "Thanks Cassie."

She released him, and watched him fire a web, swinging to the ceiling and away through the tower. Once he was gone she turned to Scott. "That was so cool! Peter is so nice."

Scott almost choked on his own saliva at that, and Cassie laughed again.

….

Peter carried his giant silver case to the plane, as Ned carried his other bag, the two of them chatting away about everything that Peter had missed while away.

Tony stood beside May, as they watched the boys, trying to convince her to let Peter come back to the tower every weekend for the 'internship'.

"I won't keep him as long as I did this time, that was just so that he could settle in. We had a lot of information to cover, but he did great; he has a really bright future ahead of him. I just want to help him achieve that."

May didn't take her eyes off her nephew as she replied, voice hard.

"He's everything to me, Stark. If anything happens to him I'm blaming you, I don't care how much money you have, or how smart you are, I will not let anything happen to him."

Tony sighed, as he watched Peter laugh with Ned, he looked so happy, and more like himself than he had in awhile. If only May knew how much he cared about the little nerd.

"I'll take good care of him, you have my word. He's a really good kid, May."

She smiled, watching Peter put his bags down and hug his friend, the both of them relieved to be finally going home. "I know."

(AN: this is once again a prompt fill from tumblr so thanks to whoever sent the prompt I really loved writing this one, in fact I loved it so much its going to be multichaptered! I'm really gonna be making Peter suffer so this will be fun haha Im psychotic I know but you all love it

please tell me what you think of it tho? Do you want more POV from any particular person? does it need more detail? or any particular scenes you really want?)


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